


hero of the day

by al_coholica



Category: Metallica
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1990s, Attempt at Humor, Blood and Injury, Clubbing, Fist Fights, Load Era, Married Couple, Multi, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Swingers, Tenderness
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:35:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27011350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/al_coholica/pseuds/al_coholica
Summary: No, they probably wouldn't, but still, it was something new. Kirk sighed, heart giving a tender pull as James turned and kissed Lars' shoulder.
Relationships: James Hetfield/Lars Ulrich, Kirk Hammett/Lani Hammett
Comments: 3
Kudos: 22





	hero of the day

**Author's Note:**

  * For [strchld](https://archiveofourown.org/users/strchld/gifts).



_Would they like it?_

Kirk shifted, watching James rub his cheek against Lars' bicep, arms tight around his thin body. The Dane sighed and spun his pen in between his fingers, the drummer in him showing momentarily. 

No, they probably wouldn't, but still, it was something new. Kirk sighed, heart giving a tender pull as James turned and kissed Lars' shoulder. 

Days like this were common for the band, well, no, they actually weren't, but it was nice. Nice and quiet, writing down lyrics and changing said lyrics and then changing those lyrics again. A lovely process, grueling and time-consuming, but lovely nonetheless. 

Lars shifted in James' lap, pressing his toned back against the singer's broad chest, staring down at James' notebook with focused eyes. 

Such a fucking married couple. Well, duh, that would make sense, they had been married since 1989 (beautiful wedding, you should've seen it), and shit, they had been together since 1984. Incredible. Twelve fucking years strong, and by the looks of it, there were many, _many_ more years to come. 

So yeah, they probably wouldn't like it, but Kirk cleared his throat and spoke up anyway, like a dumbass. 

"You guys wanna go out with Lani and me tonight?" 

Green and blue eyes looked up and focused on him, pinning him down and watching him squirm. He inwardly grimaced. Bad idea...

"Uh..." Lars turned and gave James a curious glance, his hand going up to toy with his necklaces, "Where to, exactly?" 

Kirk felt his stomach coil. Lars was playing dumb, he knew where they would be going, he was just was too much of a good wife to admit it. 

"A club."

James spoke up, "What kind of club?"

"Oh, you know," Kirk gave a shrug that he tried to make casual, but he failed horribly and spun in his wheelie chair, fingers absentmindedly plucking at his guitar strings, "Just a club." 

James and Lars blinked at him, faces lax and neutral. 

James' arms tightened slightly around Lars' torso, a movement so subtle that any normal person who hadn't known these two for fourteen years would've never seen. 

"We're not going to one of your fuckin' sex clubs."

Lars turned again to give James another curious look. He must have felt the arms gripping him tight, like a child telling another child he can't play with his favorite toy. The move was possessive, an age-old James Hetfield behavior that must have stuck around, even after all these years. 

Kirk sat up straight, his brows furrowing a bit. He was ballsy today, and that in itself could be dangerous against the Mighty Het, especially if Lars was involved. 

"Why not? You've never been." 

Lars' eyes widened, a subtle hint to Kirk to please shut the fuck up, but James' teeth grit before Kirk had the chance. 

"Because we don't want to."

"Oh, c'mon! You don't have to fuck other people, just flirt around, it's like a form of role-playing almost." 

Kirk could see James' argument dissolve behind his icy blue eyes. Lars reached up to fumble with his necklaces again, golden wedding ring glimmering in the soft light of the studio. That was gonna have to come off if they wanted to go, even if everyone on this Earth knew they were married. The Dane turned to James again, eyes studying him, trying to figure out what to say, trying to see if their decisions matched. 

They obviously didn't, but that didn't stop them from standing here on the curb outside the club, hands clasped firmly together, James' chest puffed a bit to show off dominance, a useless attempt to scare off anyone from his husband. Because as of tonight, Lars didn't belong to him anymore.

Kirk gave a lighthearted scoff, pulling Lani close by her shoulders and pressing a kiss to her cheekbone, watching the old married couple with laughing eyes. 

James was dressed like the type of guy to bring beer to a funeral, then go home and watch lesbian porn while eating four hotdogs, to put it lightly. His white, long-sleeved _Harley Davidson_ shirt was bathed in pink from the red neon lights outside the club, his acid-washed jeans hugged his slightly trembling legs, those stupid cowboy boots clicked lightly against the pavement as he shifted his weight from foot to foot.

He was uncomfortable, very, very uncomfortable, the only thing keeping him grounded was Lars' slightly smaller hand gripped tight in his own. 

Lars looked beautiful, the outfit he wore simple, yet classy. He wore a black tank-top and straight jeans that must have been becoming his new trademark (™) look, as well as those leather boots that he seemed to grow attached to. The jacket he wore was black and thin, leaving the Dane to shiver slightly in the unforgiving wet air outside. His pixie-cut hair was a mound of fluffy brown locks atop his head, the gel he had in it earlier today gone, making him look ten years younger.

Kirk shook his head slightly. 

They dressed for each other, James dressed the way Lars liked him, and vice versa. James was causal and comfortable wearing what he usually wore, and Lars was elegant and informally sophisticated.

Kirk almost swore that if he looked close enough, he could see the little crescent moon earrings James bought Lars in late '91 in the Danes ears, and when Lars turned to whisper to his tall husband, the guitarist discovered he was correct.

_Lovesick motherfuckers._

"You guys ready to go?" He asked, arm slipping from Lani's shoulders to her waist, and he watched their heads nod 'yes', but their eyes shout a big fat 'no.' Shit, tonight was not going to end well. 

The lights were pounding with _9 Inch Nails_ , red and blue bathing everyone in the room from head to toe. They danced, slow, sensual, touching and grabbing and kissing partners that were not their own, enjoying themselves, enjoying each other, ignoring the consequences. And you know who _wasn't_ in the crowd of people slowing fucking each other through their clothes? Well, take a wild fucking guess, buddy.

Kirk sighed heavily into his drink, mentally kicking his ass as he watched James stare at Lars like a mother hawk, only ten times more intense. 

They surprisingly sat separately, Lars at a small table more towards the crowd of clubbers. His big eyes watched them intently, fearfully almost, like a wounded animal watching a hunter come close to finish it off. He looked lonely and small since James was not there to hold and protect him, and it cracked him open, showing his most shoved down vulnerabilities.

No, Lars Ulrich was not some weak, little thing that couldn't live without James, and yeah, he could put up one hell of a fight, but after years and years of being practically glued to James' side every time they went out, his hard-headed, stubborn tendencies to do whatever he wanted were watered down, leaving him defenseless. 

Kirk watched him most of the time, and he at least _attempted_ to go around and be all flirty. Lars flirted all the time, but that was with friends and interviewers because he liked people to like him. But batting his thick eyelashes sweetly and trying to show interest to people he didn't know, people who had intentions to fuck and get fucked made that mischievous little gleam in Lars' eyes melt away. Kirk could practically see the Dane's gut coil. 

And James, quiet and intimidating James had yet to make a move from his table, which was tucked a little further away from the big wave of people. He had been sitting most of the night, eyes following and watching Lars intently, making sure he was safe, making sure that it was just flirting and nothing else. 

Kirk knew that James would rather sell his kidney to the black market than to see someone else own his Dane, and frankly, by the way the singer's fist clenched around his beer mug and his eyes darkened every time someone even breathed in Lars' direction, Kirk fucking believed it. 

"Shit," the guitarist cursed into his drink, taking a gloomy sip, watching the night go down the drain. This was a goddamn waste of time, all because the power couple of the century was too in love to flirt around with someone else. Fucking typical...

Kirk perked up when James did, and he followed the singer's fiery gaze- oh, oh, that wasn't good. 

The guy had to be about seven feet tall at least, a good three-hundred pounds all in broad shoulders and big arms and legs. He was okay-looking, defined jawline and slight stubble, his big ass head complemented with smoldering eyes and straight teeth... which was attractive to people... maybe? But good Lord... he was huge... and sitting at Lars' table. Yeah, this _was_ supposed to be a good thing, this was supposed to happen, they were going to flirt and then the guy would find out that Lars was taken, and then they'd have some good laughs and everything was gonna be fine and dandy.

Well, by the looks of it, that wasn't gonna fucking happen. 

Kirk watched Lars' spine stiffen, and his shoulders shivered as he reached up to fumble with his necklaces, the glitter of his wedding ring a useless defense against this monster of a man. This _was_ a swingers club, wedding rings were worthless in this establishment.

He did make conversation, using his second defense, that defense being his fast wit and forever running motormouth. It had gotten him in a lot of trouble over the years, causing James to use his fists to help Lars out when his motormouth had run out of fuel to try and smooth over whatever mistake he made. 

It was obvious that fear was fueling Lars' mouth right now, trying to keep the conversation light and airy and friendly, a silent plead for this guy to back the fuck up. 

"Oh fuck..." Kirk murmured, setting aside his drink.

James looked like he was ready to pounce, shoulders tense, eyes cold. He didn't stand a chance against Mr. Eight-footer over here, he would easily be snapped in half by this guy's fucking fingers. James _was_ fucking strong and pretty big, standing tall at an impressive 6'1, but he was thin and lean, a big contrast against this man staring Lars down like a starved wolf hunting a rabbit from across a field, ready to attack. 

_Duran Duran_ (quite a fucking jump, what was this? What was the DJ on?) came on next, and the lights, flashing blue and red, now got rid of blue and bathed the whole room in pulsing, angry, ruby. James' blue eyes stuck out amongst it all, so did Lars' golden wedding ring. 

Kirk slid off his bar stool in sync with Lars getting out of his chair. The Dane said something low, something that made the guys face twist into an obvious, not-very-well-hidden rage, and he turned away, locking eyes with James. Blue and green melted into each other, and James' shoulders relaxed as Lars came walking towards his table. 

The guy stood, all twelve feet of him, and grabbed at Lars, snatching his lean bicep in his big, thick hand. 

And he _yanked._

As the small drummer yelped, his whole body jerking back to crash against the guy's chest, Kirk watched as anger boiled over, and the Mighty Het was released, charging with flying fists. 

Yeah, this was a _very_ bad idea.

**Author's Note:**

> yes this is horribly done and i am growing rusty


End file.
